On September 4, the
Archdiocese for the Military Services, USA honored one of its outstanding
military chaplains, Vietnam War hero and Medal of Honor recipient Father
Vincent R. Capodanno, MM, with a special memorial Mass in Washington, DC. Dubbed
“the Grunt Padre,” Father Capodanno was killed on a Vietnam battlefield in 1967
while administering to wounded and dying US Marines; he was officially
proclaimed a “Servant of God” in 2006 and his cause for beatification has been
initiated. Archbishop for the Military Services Timothy P. Broglio was the main
celebrant of the memorial Mass, which was held at the Basilica of the National
Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. During his homily he called on those
present to remember Father Capodanno’s sacrifice and to “continue his Maryknoll
missionary spirit, his Marine courage, and his absolute fidelity to his
ministry as a priest in service to all.”

As evidenced by
the example of Father Capodanno, military chaplains play a vital role in attending
to the spiritual needs of a unique community that often finds itself in adverse
circumstances. In 2010, Pope Benedict XVI described the role of a military
chaplain as bringing about “renewed adhesion to Christ,” setting the bar of
“holiness as the high measure of Christian life in response to the new pastoral
challenges.”

Catholic
chaplains must do their work despite dwindling numbers; in the last decade the
number of Catholic military chaplains has fallen from 400 to 260. CWR recently spoke with four military
chaplains, both active and retired, about their service.

“You’re a real spiritual father to them”

Father Carl Subler

Father Carl
Subler is a US Army
captain. He was ordained a priest in 2004, and joined the Army three years
later. He’s currently stationed at Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri, after
returning from duty in Afghanistan. He was the subject of a recent photo
essay for Time, “Battlefield
Priest.”

Father Subler
joined the Navy as an enlisted man in 1995 and served four years. He was
assigned to a missile cruiser, and remembered how a Navy chaplain would come via helicopter to celebrate Mass for
the Catholic sailors. Inspired by his example, Father Subler said, “I knew then
that I wanted to go into service as a priest.”

Upon being
discharged from the Navy, he entered the seminary for the Diocese of Columbus,
Ohio, and served as a priest in a parish for three years. Father Neal Buckon, a
priest-friend who later became an auxiliary bishop for the Archdiocese of
Military Services, persuaded him to join the Army. Father Subler was stationed
in Iraq for a time, and then southern Afghanistan. More than once, his service
on the front lines brought him under fire from the enemy.

Once, the Taliban
opened fire and Father Subler found himself crawling through a poppy field with
bullets cracking overhead. “I couldn’t wait to get my hands on Neal Buckon and
beat the hell out of him for getting me into this mess!” Father Subler joked
later.

Another time he
was part of a convoy to a remote outpost in Afghanistan and his team
encountered nine roadside bombs set by the Taliban. Upon reaching his
destination, he was stranded for 10 days while the return route was cleared. Military
vehicles were frequently lost to roadside bombs, he noted.

Father Subler
likes Army life, and sees it as being a bit like monastic life (“we all wear a
uniform,” he noted). Unlike civilian parish life, in the military he
serves a transient community, as soldiers are frequently transferred from one
location to the next. But they’re always happy when Father comes to visit. “They
love having a priest out there,” he said. “They’re like kids when dad comes
home from work; you’re a real spiritual father to them, particularly in a
dangerous combat zone.”

Father Subler’s
duties might take him to the bedside of a wounded soldier awaiting surgery, or
to the morgue to bless bodies of the recently deceased. Central to his job, he
stressed, is providing the sacraments. “That’s what a priest is about,” he
said.

Father Subler is pleased
to see Father Capodanno being honored this month, because “he’s the kind of
priest in the military I want to be. He’s all about the troops. That’s what I
strive for.”

Living out the
priesthood in harm’s way

Father Eric Albertson

Father Eric
Albertson is a lieutenant
colonel in the Army (soon to be promoted to colonel). He was ordained to the
priesthood for the Diocese of Arlington in 1986, and, after seven years of
civilian ministry, joined the Army in 1993.

Since joining the
military, Father Albertson has done two tours of duty in Iraq and two in
Afghanistan. He has found himself under fire from the enemy many times, and was
once wounded after his convoy struck an Improvised Explosive Device (IED) in
Iraq. He was awarded the Purple Heart.

“We encountered
multiple IEDs; it was the third one that hit us,” Father Albertson recalled. “It
knocked me out briefly, and the force of the explosion almost rolled our
vehicle over.”

He suffered a
concussion, which caused dizzy spells, ringing in his ears, and nausea. The
following weekend, however, he was back at work again in the combat zone.

In another
incident in Afghanistan, he tried to enter the chaplain’s quarters at one base,
but had failed to get the keys from a fellow chaplain. Two Taliban mortar teams
attacked the camp, hitting it with 16 rounds. Father Albertson took cover near
a machine gun position, and observed as the American soldiers coolly returned
fire. Once the battle ended and both attacking mortar teams had been wiped out,
Father discovered that the chaplain’s quarters had been struck with shrapnel
from one of the mortar rounds. Had he been inside, he would likely have been
severely wounded or even killed.

“Your angel was looking
out for you that day,” his fellow chaplain told Father Albertson when he returned
to the base.

Despite the
risks, Father is grateful for his time in the military. The soldiers he served
are always pleased to see him, some saying that they had hadn’t come to
appreciate the Mass until they were without it. “Sometimes they get quite
emotional; I remember one guy who cried when he received Communion,” he
said. “It’s been my great privilege and joy to serve them.”

The toughest part
of his job, Father Albertson said, is seeing soldiers killed. Some in the
military can become “callous” when dealing with death on a daily basis, but not
a chaplain. “Each time we lose someone, it hurts just as much as the first time,”
he said. “It’s the most stressful and tragic part of this ministry.”

Father Albertson
also comforts the steady stream of wounded. His last night in Afghanistan he
was called upon to anoint a quadruple amputee.

In order to be
most effective in his ministry, Father Albertson has to get close to the
troops. One of the techniques he uses to build rapport is offering guitar
lessons to his fellow soldiers (watch him in action here).

In an effort to
connect with Americans back home, he became a combat photographer, chronicling
the experiences of his fellow soldiers overseas. When people sent care
packages to the troops, Father Albertson sent them photos in return, as a way
to tell the story of what the troops were experiencing. He also records memorial
ceremonies for soldiers killed in action and sends the videos to family members
back home. “It offers them a window into the tenderness and honor the military
extends to the fallen,” he explained.

Father Albertson is
currently assigned to the US Army War College in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, his
13th assignment in 10 years. He’s pleased with the career he’s enjoyed in the
military, remarking, “It’s a great way to live out the priesthood. I love the
traditions of the Army, and I think it’s neat to be a part of this subculture. I
feel spoiled, self-actualized. My work is my play.”

A military chaplain at Ground Zero

Father Karl-Albert Lindblad

Father
Karl-Albert Lindblad recently retired
from more than two decades of service in the US Navy. Today he serves as
chaplain at the Naval Medical Center Portsmouth in Virginia. He is a native of
New York City, and remembers watching Navy ships come and go from the harbor as
a child. After entering the seminary, he contacted the Navy and asked if they
had chaplains.

The military has long
been in need of more chaplains, he explained“We’re lucky to have the priests
that we do.”

Compounding the
problem is the fact that the armed forces are looking for younger, fit men who
can meet the challenges of military lifethe same kind of new priest bishops
seek for their parishes.

Father Lindblad
was ordained for the Archdiocese of New York in 1987. After spending several
years in a parish, he became a Navy chaplain. He rose to the rank of Lieutenant
Commander, equivalent to the rank of major in the Army. While the duties of a
military priest are often similar to those of a civilian priest, there are some
important differences, Father Lindblad said. “We travel a lot, we can get shot
at, and we’re asked to live in small spaces,” he explained.

Unlike a civilian
priest, a military priest lives with his congregation. “It can be both
exhilarating and challenging,” he said. “While you’re trying to be a role model
and witness Christ to them, some days they see your worst side.”

According to Father
Lindblad, soldiers and emergency service personnel typically have “very
immediate concerns,” whether because they’re going into combat or daily working
with military equipment that can be dangerous. Being away from home six months
or more at a time can be a burden, too. Those who are forced to kill others in
battle approach him with moral concerns about their actions.

Father Lindblad has
been assigned to military bases all over the US and throughout the world, and
was even part of a mission to capture Somali pirates in the Indian Ocean. But
the assignment that was most profoundly memorable for him came in 2001, when he
was working at the US Merchant Marine Academy on Long Island, New York. The
Academy was just 20 miles from the World Trade Center, and he witnessed the
9-11 attacks in progress.

“When we first
saw the smoke, we thought it was an accident. When the second plane hit, we
realized it was a terror attack,” he said.

Father Lindblad was
the first Navy chaplain on the scene, and played a key role in securing the
services of a Navy hospital ship, the USNS Comfort.
As a teenager, he had worked as a messenger in the World Trade Center,
and knew its buildings well. “I looked at the pile of steel ruins, and thought,
‘We’re going to need more help,’” he remembered.

One of his most
vivid memories was of the many shoes of the victims strewn about Ground Zero. The
pressure of the collapse of the buildings had vaporized the bodies of the
nearly 3,000 victims, he said, leaving behind only their shoes: “I came to
realize just how many had died.”

Father Lucky

Father Clement Davenport

Father Clement
Davenport, age 88, saw
many die in his years serving as a US Army chaplain in the wars in Korea and
Vietnam.

Father Davenport was
ordained a priest for the Archdiocese of San Francisco in 1948. He volunteered
to join the US Army after the outbreak of the Korean War. The infantry units in
which he served, both in Korea and Vietnam, often found themselves in the thick
of the fighting. Father Davenport was repeatedly advised to return to the safer
rear areas, but he wanted to be on the front lines with the troops.

“That’s how we
serve as priests; it’s part of our nature,” he said. “We have to go where the
suffering and dying are.”

The strains of
war can be tremendous, Father Davenport said, but God’s grace can help you
endure. He recalled one incident, when he was serving with soldiers protecting
a water plant in Saigon, Vietnam. He was suffering from food poisoning, but
since his unit was expecting an artillery attack that night, he opted to stay
rather than go to the hospital.

At 3 am, the North Vietnamese barrage hit and
“all hell broke loose,” he said. Casualties were high, and Father Davenport
went about ministering to the wounded and dying, pausing from time to time to
vomit because of his illness. The next day, he celebrated nine Masses. His only
“food” for the day was a can of Coke, which it took him eight hours to get down.
He reflected, “I don’t know how I did it, but God takes care of you.”

Despite his many
times in combat, Father Davenport made it through unscathed. Once on the
battlefield, an artillery shell exploded nearby, sending a piece of shrapnel
tearing through his fatigues. But he was left uninjured. The experience helped
earn him the title of “Father Lucky.”

He recalled another
incident in which his driver, who had not yet experienced combat, took him to
the front lines. While Father Davenport was speaking to some tank crews, artillery
rounds began coming in. Father asked his driver, “Are you scared?” He replied,
“Not when I’m with Father Lucky.” Father responded, “Well, I am. Let’s get the
hell out of here!”

Father Davenport
believes in the adage “There are no atheists in foxholes.” Soldiers fighting
and dying were often receptive to his ministry; some wore rosaries he had given
them around their necks into battle.

According to Father
Davenport, the Catholic chaplain shortage was always a problem; seven
Protestant chaplains ministered to the same number of men he did. He had spent
enough time in combat to earn a ticket home, but opted to stay with the troops
until the end of both wars because “there was no one to replace me.”

Father Davenport is
pastor emeritus and in residence at the Church of the Nativity in Menlo Park,
California. He has fond memories of his time in the service. He says that while
war is “terrible and stupid,” the work of a military chaplain is “beautiful.”

“You hold wounded and
dying kids in your arms, 18 or 19 years old, some calling out for their mothers,”
he recalled. “I told them not to be afraid, and talked to them about Jesus and
Mary. My time in the military was the most important part of my priesthood.”

About the Author

Jim Graves

Jim Graves is a Catholic writer living in Newport Beach, California.

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